


Clash

by placentalmammal



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 08:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placentalmammal/pseuds/placentalmammal
Summary: Carey and Killian kiss and paint each other's nails.





	Clash

**Author's Note:**

> The other thing I found in my drafts.

Carey's room is a mess. There's no getting around it. There's a hamper in the corner, sadly neglected, beside an overflowing bin. Discarded armor and dirty clothes cover the floor in a loose jumble of battered magazines and stray socks, among other, more-sinister items. Treading carefully (there are smoke bombs and unsheathed knives amid the clutter) Killian followed a narrow path from the door to the unmade bed. She sat down on the sagging mattress, shoving an armload of junk aside to make room for herself.

"I can't believe you live like this," she said. "How can you stand it?"

Nimbly, Carey danced through the clutter and jumped onto the bed beside Killian, sprawling across Killian's legs. "It doesn't bother me," she said, her thin tongue flicking out to kiss Killian's jaw. "I don't even notice any more."

"How can you find anything?" Killian tipped her head back, allowing the other woman easier access to the soft skin on the underside of her jaw. She wrapped her arms around Carey and pulled her closer, settling her more comfortably on her lap. Carey made a happy noise low in her throat, a sort of warm _chrr_ sound, a contented, low-frequency grumble. Grinning, Killian bent her head kissed Carey's scaly forehead.

Carey shrugs. "I just remember where I put everything," she says. "It's not that hard."

Killian rolls her eyes and allows herself to be distracted with a kiss. They're a mismatched pair, an orc and a dragonborn. Carey is small and compact and warm, armor-plated except for the soft spots on her belly and beneath her chin. Killian is all bulk, layers of hard muscle and soft fat underneath her thick skin. It's taken a bit of finagling to work out how they fit together, to discover one another's likes and dislikes and erogenous zones.

Thank the gods for porn.

Breathing heavily, Killian slides her hand underneath the hem of Carey's shirt, running her thumb across the chinks in her scales, caressing the soft flesh beneath.

Carey's low rumble stutters as her breath catches in her throat. Utterly relaxed, she's gone slack in Killian's arms. She reaches up lazily and nuzzles against Killian, snout pressing into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

Killian kisses her again, shifting her posture and sinking back slightly into the mountain of pillows and rumbled blankets. Carey squirms in her lap and leans into her, blunt claws scrambling for purchase in the sheets. Straddling Killian's hips, Carey presses her advantage and steals another kiss, this one sharp and lingering.

"Lean back," Carey says breathlessly. Her hands are heavy on Killian's shoulders, and her voice is pitched low and sultry, a rumbling contralto colored by her happy growl. Her spotted tongue flicks across Killian's jaw and she shivers, gooseflesh standing out on her green arms.

Looking up at the other woman through hooded eyes, Killian starts to lay back. She comes down on top of something sharp and angular. It digs into the base of her spine, and she cries out and jerks upward reflexively. Carey leans forward at the same moment, eyes alight with concern, and their heads collide with a loud thud, like a bowling ball thrown down a flight of stairs.

Cursing and spitting, Killian reaches under the cover and digs around blindly. After a moment of fumbling, she extracts a wooden box, all gleaming maple and sharp edges. "What," she says petulantly, "is _this_?"

Carey takes it from her, lifts the lid, and laughs softly. "Nail polish," she says, holding up a small pink bottle. "I've been wondering where this was!"

Killian glares at her, still clutching her head. "How'd it get there?"

"Dunno." Carey has already recovered from knocking heads, her skull is thick and armored. She leans over and rubs Killian's arm soothingly, setting the box aside. "Sorry, babe."

Grumbling, Killian allows herself to be soothed. Her head is still ringing, but Carey is gentle and sweet. "Stupid box," she says. "Damn corners."

"Let me kiss it better?" says Carey, and she leans in again, her gold eyes bright.

Killian snorts and shoves the other woman away. "The mood's kinda ruined," she says gently. "I'd rather not."

"Fair enough." Brightening, Carey reaches for the wooden box again. "Let me paint your nails?" she says, digging through the box. "I think this blue would be really cute on you." Her own claws are a vivid tangerine, clashing terribly with her scales.

Killian hesitates, but only for a moment. "Alright."

The blue in question is a pale, robin's egg color, a few shades brighter than Carey's cornflower scales. Killian's only dress (which she hasn't worn in years) is the same color. She wonders idly if Carey is trying to propose a girl's night out. Or maybe she just likes the color.

Carey focuses intently on her task, the tip of her tongue poking out. She bends over Killian's hands, attentively moving the brush across her blunt fingernails. It's been a while since she's painted her nails, but the sensation is immediately familiar. It's a sort of wet tickle, and she wrinkles her nose, lips turning up in a smile. "It _is_ a nice color," she admits. "I like it."

"Knew you would," says Carey, and she grins up at Killian, irresistible.

Killian swallows. “As soon as the polish is dry,” she warns, “I’m going to start kissing you, and I’m not going to stop. If there’s any other uncomfortable surprises, I’m going to supplex you.”

Carey beams. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she says fondly.


End file.
